


You Can't Buy Love (But You Can Rent It, For 3 Minutes)

by HeavyMetalMothman



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Lapdance, M/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs, You'll never guess what ryan's stage name is (you might thought), cute ending tho, just a lil bit, mentions of Sara Rubin, oh... you know ;), some sort of explicit masturbation, stripper!ryan, trans!Ryan Bergara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 09:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14766704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavyMetalMothman/pseuds/HeavyMetalMothman
Summary: Shane's getting over a totally super mutual breakup, his friends drag him to a strip club to have some fun for one night.How is it his fault he's the idiot that fell in love with a stripper?





	You Can't Buy Love (But You Can Rent It, For 3 Minutes)

**Author's Note:**

> listen i sent this idea to faequill like a week ago and after that gyrating hip "give me the buisness" bit in the lastest episode, I just couldn't not write it.

Shane let himself be dragged along to the club. It had only been a week since he and Sara had broken up. They claimed it was mutual, but honestly? Shane did feel a little raw on the inside. A distraction was welcome despite how artificial and flashing neon it may be. 

 

His friends kept talking about how much better he’d feel that night, how fun it was going to be. Looking up at the building, Shane wasn’t so sure. The lack of windows and cold exterior did not give a welcoming presence, the only indicator it was a club was the glowing neon sign, buzzing loudly as the noble gas within the bulbs was ionized. 

 

He was practically led into the club by the hand.  _ The strip club. _ He probably should have gathered from the innuendo that was not-so-subtly tucked into the club’s name, but it didn’t matter as he entered into the hive of hedonism. 

 

This was not his particular scene, he’d prefer to be at home with a book, a blanket, and some nice hot tea, but this evening he’d have to settle for a dark room of flashing lights, nearly naked women and men, loud music, and alcohol. 

 

He tried not let his gaze be drawn downward as a particularly busty woman an a low cut dress took their drink orders. TJ shouldered him. “You can look, that’s the whole point of this place, dummy.” 

 

Shane hummed in response as he watched the current dancer on the main stage. She was without a top, breasts hanging bare, bouncing with each step she took as she pranced around the pole in dagger stilettos and lingerie. 

 

She was pretty, pretty enough Shane supposed. But she wasn’t quite his type, and so he couldn’t quite stay as focused as he would have liked. Several dancers had their turn on the stage, some more talented than others, all clearly trying to please. 

 

The dancer that finally caught his eye strutted onto the platform. He was clearly one of the main events, almost everyone stopped to look up at him at some point or another. 

 

_ Goddamn _ , Shane thought. He was so deliberate in every move he made. Every twist and turn of his body was so calculated, so smooth in transition. He looked like ink flowing through water. Everything else seemed arbitrary in that moment, Shane’s eye’s remained glued to the dancer on the stage. 

 

He was by no means conventional, but he was sure as hell attractive. A loose black shirt with purposeful distressing hung loose over his toned body, bronze skin shining in the flashing lights. He was a masterpiece. 

 

Shane didn’t want it to end, he wanted to watch his muscles tense and flex, watch his hips rock back and forth and around as though they were detached from the rest of him. Black briefs hugged his ass, the golden globes bouncing as he fucking twerked like a goddamn harlot, gripping the pole in front of him as back arched. 

 

Those who were watching him, Shane included, nearly lost their fucking minds when he dropped to the floor in the splits, bouncing off the ground. 

 

When he stood, his ass went up first. Slowly he rose, fingers trailing up his legs, then thighs. He gripped the hem of his sleazy little shirt, pulling it up and over his head, tossing it away with a little flourish. 

 

Shane’s eyes were drawn downward as he took in the sight of his figure, structured but not grossly defined. He turned, hips swaying this way and that. Each crease and fold and bend of skin seemed downright sinful. Shane wanted to touch, put his hands all over every curve on his body but he was condemned to sit and watch. 

 

He was almost disappointed when the dancer left the stage, another taking his place, clearly not as exciting as the last. His friends all sort of snickered at him as he came back to reality, acknowledging his surroundings. 

 

“What? He was good.” He said defensively. He picked his drink up off the table and downed the rest of it. 

 

He was trying to at least show the current dancer some appreciation when a hand caressed his neck. 

 

“Are you ready for me, love?” He looked up to see the dancer, looking at him with a sultry smile. TJ was the first to break, snorting into his drink. Keith and Garrett were trying so hard not to laugh. The dancer seemed to pick up on their shenanigans and withdrew his hand. “Only if you want to, of course.” 

 

“Oh, I’m ready,” Shane said, hardly giving any thought as to what he was agreeing to. He looked indignantly at his friends trying not to lose it. 

 

“Follow me then.” The dancer’s hand trailed over Shane’s shoulders as he walked away.

 

“Have fun!” Keith called out after him. Shane flipped him off without sparing him a so much as a glance. He was far to preoccupied with watching the dancer as he walked. He led them to set of private rooms, holding one of the doors open for Shane, and then shutting it behind them.

 

Shane suddenly felt woefully insecure. He stood a good head above the dancer but the dancer knew his trade well, and that put him leagues above Shane. 

 

Shane wasn’t even sure what to call him, he’d since forgotten his stage name. 

 

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He guides Shane to the couch in the room, lightly pushing him back in a motion to sit down. Shane sat, unceremoniously plopping down on the couch. 

 

“S-Shane.” He stuttered. Up close he could see his features, the almond-shaped dark brown eyes, plump lips, and jet black hair. His jaw was firm and rounded, and dusted with dark stubble.  Shane could see he was wearing a light layer of gold eyeshadow, and his fingernails were also painted gold. 

 

“Well, Shane, the patrons call me Ricky.” He loomed over Shane, one knee resting on the couch. “Have you ever had someone dance for you before?” 

 

Shane swallowed, he knew Ricky was asking as a courtesy but he was positive he could see right through him. “No.”

 

“Well…” Ricky backed up a step. “No touching. That’s all you need to know. Just sit still and relax.” 

 

Shane watched him as he set a timer on his phone, setting it aside. He turned around, Shane had to resist the urge not take ahold of his hips and help him grind down. Ricky’s ass was so much better up close and personal, thick and heavy. The fabric of his boxers stretched thin against it. 

 

Ricky began gyrating his hips and it should have been illegal, how absolutely sinful he moved. He grinded in slow circles, pulling his tattered shirt up to tease Shane with a view of his back working in tandem with his hips. He ground down once particularly hard, and then brought his ass up in the air before sinking back down on Shane’s lap. 

 

Shane almost  _ whimpered _ when Ricky pulled away and turned around, then he pulled his shirt off, teasing Shane as he swayed his hips, abdominals flexing. The look on Shane’s face must have said it all, because he fucking scoffed and pulled his shirt over his head. 

 

And then he was back on Shane’s lap again, grinding back and forth. He ground down a little harder with a cute little smirk on his lips, and Shane let out a small groan. 

 

“You like that, baby?” Ricky’s voice was soft and sweet, like sticky syrup. He had the audacity to grind down again, and if Shane wasn’t hard before, he was then. All he could do is nod because he knew if he opened his mouth the only thing to come out will be a pathetic moan.

 

Shane’s eyes drifted up Ricky’s stomach and to his chest, he noticed scars lining the bottom of his pectorals, paler and bubbling out against the rest of his skin. Shane looked up at Ricky for understanding, a lot of things making sense all at once. Like why he wasn’t hard during his performance and why he wasn’t hard then, how he could drop down into a perfectly even split without so much as glimmer of pain on his face. Ricky just brought a finger to his lips and winks. 

 

And then suddenly he’s thrusting his hips forward and back, once slow and deep, and then several quick thrusts in succession, followed be another slow thrust. Shane couldn’t help it he groaned again, Ricky just smirked.

 

Ricky had gotten a little close to Shane’s face, Shane just couldn't stop himself, staring up into those dark brown eyes full of mischief and lust. He leaned up to kiss him, but Ricky was one step ahead of him, pulling back and out of reach. 

 

“I thought I said no touching.” Ricky tsked at him, but he still had that stupid smirk on his face. 

 

The timer goes off and it’s the worst sound Shane’s heard in a while. Ricky lifted himself off of Shane and silenced the phone. Shane stayed sitting, his dick painfully hard in his pants like some kind of teenager. 

 

“You know,” Ricky said, putting his silly little shirt back on. “It's a shame you’re a patron tonight. You seem like somebody I’d rather like to get to know.” 

 

Shane can’t tell if he’s joking, saying that so he Shane will come back and spend money on him, or if he really means it, but it baffled him nonetheless. He’d spoken all of two words to him the entire time. 

 

“You can leave when you feel ready. Was nice to meet you, Shane.” Ricky waved his fingers and strutted out the door. 

 

Shane sat there, waiting for his stupid boner to shrink to a reasonable size before he dared to venture out and make the walk of shame back to the table. His friends were all eagerly waiting for him when he returned. 

 

“So how was it?” Keith asked, head resting in his hand. 

 

Shane took an uncomfortable seat and sighed. “Those hips are gonna haunt me in the best fucking way.”

 

“They better.” TJ piped up. He took swig from his beer. “That was  _ not _ a cheap lapdance. Especially for three minutes.”

 

“It was good.” Shane said, trying to reassure his friends of their unwise financial decision. 

 

He spends the rest of the short amount of time at the club hoping to see Ricky again, but he doesn’t, he doesn’t even catch a glimpse. It’s like he vanished. 

 

He goes home later, and he can’t sleep. His thoughts are burdened with images of Ricky grinding down on him, taking off his clothes, sinking down on Shane’s cock and riding him like well seasoned whore. Shane comes harder than he has in a long time, screaming Ricky’s name into the pillow. 

 

\---

 

A few days later, Shane was nearly late for work, hurriedly ordering tea from the Starbucks down the street. He supposed maybe it wasn’t the best decision to stay up until the early hours of the morning, jacking off to a stripper he met  _ once _ and may or may not be a little bit smitten with. 

 

He was about to hand the barista his card when another hand beat him to it, handing the barista ten dollars in cash. 

 

“I got it.” A familiar voice says with just the right amount of edge and sweet to it. Shane’s eyes meet with Ricky’s brown eyes. Somehow, dressed in normal clothes and forgoing the gold makeup, he still looks handsome, pink lips set in a smirk. 

 

The barista holds out his change and Ryan takes it, slowly putting it back in his pocket. Shane’s completely forgotten about work and is staring at the handsome man in front of him, completely dumbstruck. 

 

“Ric—”

 

“Ryan.” He says. He handed Shane a paper with a number scrawled on it. “You can call me Ryan.” 

 

He winked, and walked away, Shane swore his soul left his body. 

**Author's Note:**

> it's 4 am and i have work at 11:30 i'm going the fuck to sleep now
> 
> comments and kudos validate my pathetic existence


End file.
